Page 14 of Crossing the Line
“It’s smart to be interested in security,” Xavier said, giving her a nod of approval. Waverly thought she heard Kate purr.
“Ugh, fine,” Waverly said. “Let’s hear all about the prison you’re building for me.”
Undeterred, Xavier briefed them on the new security system that he was installing. Lights, sensors, cameras, off-site back-ups. The whole she-bang. He pulled out his phone and opened an app. When he tilted the screen, Waverly could see a rendering of the house and grounds.
“We added cameras here, here, and here,” he said, pointing. “The perimeter sensors will go in at the weak points around the wall. I’m also changing the locks here and in the main house. You’ll be able to lock and unlock doors with an app I’ll put on your phone. Any alarms will be monitored by my internal team, and alerts will be sent directly to your phone.”
“This all sounds like we’re preparing for an attack,” Waverly frowned. “What’s next? Bulletproof gowns and secret bunkers?”
“Next is you and I spending some time reviewing your usual haunts, where you feel safe, what situations could be dangerous, and what steps we can take to keep you safe without locking you in a closet.”
“She has a really nice closet,” Kate interjected.
“A nice prison is still a prison,” Waverly reminded her.
Xavier shook his head. “These are just standard safety measures. Being prepared for the unknown makes it easier to react effectively when there’s a known threat.”
“Speaking of known threats—” Kate began.
“We don’t need to get into that again,” Waverly sighed, grabbing for the folder that Kate was trying to shove at Xavier.
Xavier wrestled the folder from Waverly and slapped her hand away. “What’s this?”
“I run Wave’s social media accounts, and these are a handful of—shall we say ‘fans?’—that give me the creeps,” Kate explained. Her quick fingers paged through the printouts. “This bi-yatch here started an ‘I Hate Waverly Sinner’ group on Facebook. Her profile pic is a chick in a Confederate flag bikini flipping the bird.”
“Classy,” Xavier commented, skimming some of the more salacious posts.
“I’m pretty sure she’s just a troll. I friended her with one of my fake accounts to keep an eye on her. She basically spouts off on everything from puppy videos to baby pics. She may not be a ‘credible’ threat, but I don’t like it when she starts sharing nuggets like this.
Kate tapped a finger on a post on one of the papers. Xavier’s eyebrows raised and he let out a low whistle.
“Well, now you have to tell me,” Waverly sighed. As a rule, she ignored all comments directed at her whether positive or negative. She’d learned at a young age that those who wanted to see her fail were a lot louder than those who appreciated her work.
Kate cleared her throat and read in a breathy southern twang designed to downplay the vitriol. “Waverly Sinner should be hung from a burning cross for her views on mixing the races. I’ve got the gasoline. Who’s with me?”
Waverly puckered her lips thoughtfully. “How many misspellings?”
“Three. Plus a misuse of a comma.”
“Where’s she from?” Waverly could feel Xavier trying to gauge her reaction.
“Whistle Swamp, Alabama, which does not exist. Neither does her alma mater, the School of Hard Knocks.”
Waverly shrugged. “Well, she doesn’t sound like much of an actual threat. More like everyone’s racist aunt who gets drunk and talks politics at Thanksgiving.”
“All the same, if you can do some digging, I’d rest easier,” Kate told Xavier.
“Consider it done. Who’s next on the list?”
“We’ve got this charmer here. Mikey D., which I’m positive stands for ‘douche.’ Mikey is a tad bit conservative, and he feels there’s a special place in Hell reserved for Wave here since she did that movie where she was a teen mom who gave up her baby.”
“Apparently he wasn’t impressed with the Critic’s Choice Award,” Waverly quipped.
“The esteemed Mikey posts on her Facebook and Twitter accounts a few times a month and spews Bible verses and threats all over the place. I block him every time, but he just creates new accounts.”
‘“I hope you get raped and murdered while your parents watch. Even God won’t save you,’” Xavier read out loud.
He looked at Waverly, who pursed her lips. “On that note, I think I’m going to pack my gym clothes and figure out what to wear to dinner,” she said, rising and collecting the juice glasses and coffee mugs.
